Bossy.
Commanding.
Not a hint of a smile.
“Yeah, management won’t want a lawsuit,” the guide says. “We’ll get it fixed. Probably shut it down like the last setup they had in here. This room’s cursed.”
“Did someone die in here?” Charlie asks.
“Please don’t answer that,” Simon replies.
He’s sounding a little more normal now.
But when I loosen my grip on this hug, he doesn’t let me go.
“Boys, let’s go and find dinner. And get Bea some fresh air.” He scoops me up into his arms again and carries me through the building.
“I can walk,” I murmur against his neck.
“You bloody well cannot until I say you can” is his gruff response.
A doorwooshes, and warm summer air tickles my nostrils as he strides out into the parking lot.
“I didn’t know Dad was that strong,” Charlie whispers to Eddie behind us.
“I’m never carrying a woman like that. I’d probably huff and puff and drop her like I dropped you last week, and then she’d never want anything to do with me again.”
“We should both probably run more. Or do push-ups when Dad does his push-ups.”
“Mom says we don’t have to be obsessed with how our bodies look like Dad is though. She says we should get jobs where it doesn’t matter what we look like.”
“I want to narrate books when I get older. Then I can sit in a little closet and talk to myself all day.”
I shiver.
“Perhaps save the small room talk until later, Charlie,” Simon says.
“Whoops. Sorry, Bea.”
I look over Simon’s shoulder to smile at his sons. “It’s okay. If it makes you happy, that’s what counts.”
“I think it’s because I’ve always been the smaller twin,” Charlie says. “I like being next to people in really tight—erm, I mean, I just like being crowded.”
We reach the car, and Simon sets me down.
And then he looks at me.
And this time, when my breath leaves me, it’s not because I’m scared.
Well, maybe a little.
Told you so, my vagina crows.
Because the way Simon’s looking at me—a man doesn’t look at a woman like that if he doesn’t care.
A lot.
More than he should.
